The Flipside of the Coin
by Sallywags
Summary: Dudley and Harry, Draco and his cousin Salena. Two sets of cousins in the summer of 1996 trying to make sense of their relationships as the world shifts beneath their feet. Summer between OOTP and HBP.
1. Draco's Choice: July 1996

**Draco's Choice: July 1996**

**Disclaimer:** **I own nothing except any OCs so please don't sue! (It'd be like trying to get blood out of a stone anyway!) The poem quoted, or rather misquoted by Draco is "Charge of the Light Brigade" by Alfred Lord Tennyson, I don't own that either.**

**Summary: It's the summer between OOTP and HBP and Draco has a decision to make which will change the course of his life and the lives of everyone in the wizarding world. Will he make the right one? I think we all know how this story ends…**

**Notes: I've somewhat mangled cannon to fit with my own universe, however the only major thing that has changed is that Anne Lupin and Salena Black were involved in the fight in the Department of Mysteries, they played no major part in that battle, apart from getting themselves wounded and nearly killed. It makes sense in so much that knowing Sirius had been kidnapped there would be no way that his daughter would not be involved in the rescue mission, just assume that she and Anne walked in with Ginny and Luna, being in the same year as those two, and the same house as Ginny it is logical to assume that they would be friends. The only affect of this being that Salena, having watched her Father killed right in front of her is obviously somewhat traumatised by the experience.**

**Draco remains just as much of a brat as ever but I thought he deserved a chance to explain himself because I don't for a second believe that he's evil, a belief that JK seems to share.**

"Merlin I hate these parties!" Fumed Draco silently. He'd snuck off to hide outside several minutes ago, and was counting on having a few minutes of peace and quiet to himself. He had a lot on his mind at the moment; the Dark Lord had just given him his first task. It wasn't one that he relished the thought of… It wasn't that he thought he couldn't pull it off, he could come up with a plan easily enough, well, maybe… but could he really kill someone? Kill Dumbledore?

Sure he wasn't fond of the meddling old coot, but could he really kill him? There was certainly no love lost between the two of them, but was that enough of a reason? Could he really go through with this?

He shook his head in irritation. Of course he could, what choice did he have? If he didn't then the Dark Lord would kill him and his family. There was **no** choice; there had never been a choice, with this or anything else. As a Malfoy he was expected to act in a certain way, this was his world, what was he going to do, run away?

He had had to take the mark, and now he would have to deal with the consequences. In the end everyone was trapped by the circumstances they was born into. Besides his Mother had given him every reason to expect that she had some kind of plan to ensure that he didn't fail. He trusted her not to get him killed, though he didn't want to have to accept help, even from her. He only prayed that somehow he would find the strength to see the plan through and somehow find a way to carry out his seemingly impossible orders.

Although it wasn't a completely impossible situation, he reasoned, thanks to his Aunt Bellatrix he was learning Occlumency, a way to shield his mind from prying eyes and meddlesome old men, no Dumbledore would not know what hit him….and he was sure he'd some up with something…What about that cabinet in Borgin and Burkes? That could be an idea… All he had to do was work out the details…He rubbed his arm absently as he contemplated his options, it had been two weeks since he was branded but the dark mark still throbbed. He wondered curiously if the pain would ever completely end or if it was just something he would have to grow accustomed too. He couldn't even ask his Father, not that he would even if he had had the option, but still…. Suddenly his lonely reverie was interrupted by an entirely unwelcome voice…

"Lurking outside cousin?" Questioned Salena Black snidely, stepping out of the shrubbery and directly into the alcove that Draco was presently hiding in. She was twirling a cut pink rose between her fingers distractedly and her short deep red dress robes were fluttering gently in the wind, contrasting sharply with her pale skin, black hair and matching red lip stick. As usual she looked irritatingly gorgeous, and the ever-present smirk on her face was doing nothing to calm his irritation with her.

She wasn't even his cousin, well… not exactly anyway. Technically speaking she was his cousin once removed twice over (or something like that anyway…), which just went to show how truly fucked up pure blood family trees were. Her mother was his Father's cousin, and her father had been his Mother Narcissa's cousin. It was too complicated for him to really be bothered thinking about much, and frankly she might as well have been his sister.

They'd practically grown up together, having shared a tutor for most of their lives. As a result she probably knew him better than anyone. She seemed to spend most of her time round at Malfoy Manor, one way or another, it wasn't as if her parents had time for her, though he knew that feeling himself. Crystal Black worked as a liaison between the French and English Ministries and spent most of her time primarily in Paris and as for Sirius… well aside from his twelve-year stint in Azkaban; he'd spent time on the run before finally getting himself killed in the Ministry battle last June. Hardly father of the year material, not that his own was so wonderful…

Ordinarily, at functions like this, Salena was one of the few people that Draco would actually relish seeing. Beautiful, intelligent and sharp, she was nothing like the sycophants that he usually associated with. She had her own mind, and her own opinions, however dangerous they might be, and, given the right provocation she was not shy about sharing them. She could definitely be an amusing companion, but right now she was the last person that he wanted to see. She was sure to have recognised that something was up with him, and he couldn't afford to tell her anything.

Salena may have been a Black but she had inherited her parents' liberal attitude and as such she was strongly opposed to the Dark Lord and all pure blood movements. Labelling it 'psychotic, impractical nonsense' advocated by a 'hypocritical, insane half blood idiot'. He tended to agree with her, but it wasn't that simple. No matter what she thought he couldn't just walk away.

"How does she always seem to find me when I don't want to be found?" Wondered Draco furiously. He had come out here to escape that God awful party, at least momentarily and here she was coming after him!

The party was another of his Mother's frankly pathetic attempts to regain some of the social standing and influence that the Malfoys had lost with his Father's arrest, not that it was doing much good, and he was frankly sick of the effort of appeasing people.

"I notice that you aren't inside either." He retorted coolly, dropping his hand from his arm as subtly as he could manage, no sense in being too obvious about these things…. She had startled him with her sudden arrival, that he would admit, but he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of showing it, Malfoys did **not** jump.

"Touché." She acknowledged, smirking slightly, and moving to lean against the balustrade, almost uncomfortably close to him. "But there is only so much social networking that I can stand." She explained, shrugging unapologetically, causing the moonlight to highlight her high cheekbones.

All the Blacks were beautiful in their own way; it was what they were famous for. Similarly the Maycombs were famed for their good looks, beautiful and untouchable, and Salena was probably a perfect blend of her parents' best traits. The best traits of the Blacks and the Maycombs, much like Draco himself. She had Sirius' killer cheekbones and elegant straight black hair and Crystal's ocean blue eyes and flawless skin, the perfect aristocrat and a true Black, arrogant, cold and stubborn. Unfortunately however she had also inherited Sirius' rash nature, she sure as hell didn't take after the coldly calculating Crystal.

"Short attention span?" He questioned rhetorically, knowing full well that it was true, she'd been practically hyperactive as a child and that hadn't changed much over the years. If she had to sit down too long, like in lessons, she practically buzzed with repressed movement.

"You know me too well." She agreed surprisingly placidly, giving him a wry smile.

He had been expecting a violently Gryffindor refutal; this was definitely not good. If she let a comment like that slip past then she was definitely up to something. The question was, what?

"That I do." He agreed readily, once more returning to gaze out onto the grounds, resting his arms heavily on the rough stone. He really didn't feel like dealing with her mind games tonight.

For a beat all was silent, Salena moving to lean closer to Draco on the harsh stone balustrade. She was quite obviously preparing herself to say something, probably something unpleasant.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on with you or do I have to guess?" She suddenly exclaimed quietly, reaching out to touch his arm, surprised when he jerked away from her soft touch, she had come uncomfortably close to touching his still tender mark.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Returned Draco equally quietly, determinedly not meeting her eyes. It wasn't that he was afraid, he **wasn't** afraid he just didn't feel like having this conversation so he wasn't going to make things easy for her, she'd always been alarmingly good at reading his mood through his eyes. There was no sense in giving her such a big advantage so early in the game.

"You can't fool me you know," she commented conversationally, "with this 'I'm a Malfoy I'm always all right' shit, I know better. I know you." She breathed quietly the last quietly, "And you're scared, I can see it, so I'm only gonna ask you once, what is going on?"

"You're imagining things, there is nothing going on." He dismissed her concern with a wave of one perfectly manicured hand.

"Bullshit!" She exclaimed rather too loudly, pitching the poor abused rose roughly into the darkness then, casting around nervously for eavesdroppers she continued in a somewhat quieter tone of voice. "You've been jumpy as hell all day, a blind man could see that there is something up with you! Just tell me you haven't been fool enough to follow in your Father's footsteps!" She hissed vengefully.

"And what concern is it of yours if I have?" He asked, arching an eyebrow in faux confusion.

"It's my concern because I actually care about what happens to you!" She returned in obvious frustration.

"Of course you do." He mocked her sarcastically.

"We're family, that means something." She began, begging him with her eyes not to do anything rash, to understand what she was saying, and what she could not afford to say, that she loved him as a brother and would rather die than see him hurt.

"Nothing except a blood connection. You of all people should know that, so don't play that card with me you know better." He explained, hurling the words into her face like arrows, knowing that they would wound her and not caring as long as they threw her off her current track of questioning.

She shook her head sadly at that but was not deterred, "You've joined him, haven't you?" She stated sincerely.

It wasn't a question really; at this point they both knew he had. Her disappointment was palpable, he couldn't stand it, so he didn't move, made no motion to explain.

"Just tell me that isn't the dark mark burned into your arm Dray." She begged brokenly, moving once again to grasp his arm.

Draco once again jerked out of her reach as he responded almost reluctantly, "I can't." He didn't want to say it, didn't want her to think badly of him, but at the same time he never could lie to her.

"Merlin Dray, what have you done?" She exhaled shakily, resting her hand briefly on her forehead in abject despair. Making a noise like an angry cat Salena closed her clear blue eyes and took a deep claming breath, before returning to gazing piercingly at him, "Why?" She asked plaintively, dropping her slender hand from her face.

"You know why." He responded tiredly.

"So he left you no choice." She stated disgustedly. He nodded glumly, that was a fairly accurate assessment of the situation, if simplistic.

"There is always a choice Draco!" She snarled without sympathy.

Well someone like her would inevitably think that, she may have been a Black but her parents had never forced their views on her, not like his had. His had made it abundantly clear that Voldemort was the way to go. What he wanted didn't matter, if he wanted to save himself, to save his family then he really had no choice. Who was she to say otherwise, what did she know about his life?

"Yes, serve him or die! Some choice." Retorted Draco sarcastically, "Or am I missing an option?" She glared at him balefully; no doubt a stinging retort already forming on her sharp tongue. He pre empted her before she could rip into him again, "I'm not you Salena," he explained, " I don't have a choice, this is what is expected of me. What would you have me do?" He screamed in frustration, angrily pushing back from the balustrade and moving to pace manically over the small paved alcove.

"I don't know… something." For once she seemed lost for words. "You are better than this Dray, better than them." He wasn't sure who he she was trying to convince with those words, him or herself.

"It doesn't matter." He announced dejectedly, nothing he thought really mattered.

"It matters to me, and it matters to you. It matters Dray." She explained patiently before trying a different tactic, "They've asked you to do something haven't they?" She theorized.

As usual she wasn't far wrong, though 'asked' was putting it rather mildly.

He only looked at her, unwilling to say anything that might incriminate himself further, finally he replied, "Walk away Salena this doesn't concern you." He tried to convince her to leave, "We are on opposite sides of this war, sooner or later you are going to have to accept that you can't save me." If she couldn't accept that she was going to get both of them into a world of trouble and this wasn't like school this was serious, they could die. "I know that your parents are involved with the Order," he explained, not bothering to tell her how he knew all of this, he had his sources, so did she, all of the purebloods did, "your path is already set, so is mine. Family or not we are destined to be enemies."

"But we don't have to be!" She exclaimed desperately. "Just tell me what they're making you do Dray please! It's destroying you! Anyone who knows you can see that, it's already eating you alive! Just tell me! We'll work something out! Us against the world, same as always, remember?" She pleaded.

"Not this time." He soothed, taking her hand in his and finally catching her eyes, if she were anyone else she would have been crying by now, but Black's don't cry and Salena was no exception, he was the one who had taught her that after all.

"Why not?" She asked desperately.

"Because you can't help me." He stated simply.

"Maybe not," she finally conceded, "but if you would just talk to…"

"Who?" He questioned, with equal parts curiosity and sarcasm, "Dumbledore?" He spat the name as though it were a curse word, which to him it might as well have been, considering the trouble the old man was causing him. Yeah that conversation would be a laugh and a half, he could hear it now, "You see sir my family forced me into taking the mark and now if I don't kill you within a year the Dark Lord is going to kill my Father…" He'd be hauled off to Azkaban before he could say 'Quidditch', yeah, that was really going to happen…

"The muggle loving old fool has had it in for me from day one, he'd never help me and you know it." He dismissed the idea with casual flippancy, hoping that his eyes wouldn't give away too much of his thoughts.

She didn't deny it, they both knew he was right, Dumbledore played favourites almost as much as Snape did, the difference being Snape was at least honest about it, Dumbledore claimed to be 'fair'. Fair to everyone except Slytherins perhaps but even their infamous headmaster had faults.

"Well then…" She tired to think of another option.

"Potter then." He suggested mockingly, knowing her well enough to know exactly what her train of thought would be, "You and I both know he hates me, besides, Dumbledore's golden boy or not right now he doesn't have the power to be able to do anything constructive, that won't always be the case, I know that but…He wouldn't help me even if he could." After everything he'd done to the guy he really didn't deserve Potter's help anyway besides, he'd be damned before he actually asked his rival for help with anything.

"You're wrong." She stated with absolute certainty. He couldn't understand her attitude, why was everyone so quick to see the best of Potter and the worst of him?

"Oh I forgot, this is Saint Potter we're talking about," he mocked, snorting derisively at the thought of his hardly 'saintly' rival, "defender of the innocent." He shook his head in disgust. "You're pretty eager to throw your lot in with him considering he almost got you killed not so long ago."

"That wasn't his fault." She defended him instantly.

"And in case it escaped your notice your mongrel of a Father is dead because of him." He was really sticking the knife in now but he just couldn't bring himself to care.

"I noticed," she answered quietly, an undercurrent of pain clear in her tone, though her voice did not break or waver, "but that wasn't his fault either and you of all people know that. My Father was always too reckless; his fate was inevitable. Harry can't be blamed for that."

"You have far too much faith in him you know and one day it's going to get you killed." He intoned, unusually serious. "He's just like his Father. James Potter was many things, including a powerful wizard, but he was reckless and he got people killed, his son is no different."

"He's not his Father." She snapped irritably.

"He might as well be and I won't always be there to protect you." He tried to explain, ignoring her furious expression, "If you're not careful he and his cause are going to get you killed."

"Perhaps it's something worth dying for!" She injected with surprising vehemence.

She couldn't actually mean that could she? She wasn't already that far gone?

"I'm not afraid to die for a cause I believe in!" She continued fervently.

Apparently she was. This was not good…

"Damn Gryffindor nobility! Nothing is worth dying for!" He responded with classic Slytherin logic that he desperately wished she would latch onto. She could be Slytherin enough in society but never when it really mattered; when it came to things like survival she was purely a Gryffindor at heart, just like her father. Shit, there was a sobering thought; he did not want her to share her father's fate.

"Not even freedom?" She raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"What good is freedom if you're too dead to enjoy it?" He reasoned.

"And what is the point of life if you spend all of it catering to the whims of somebody else?" She mocked him.

"At least you're alive to plot another day." He muttered bitterly, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest.

"A gilded cage is still a cage you know." She pointed out sardonically.

"Believe me I'm well aware of the fact, it's how I grew up. But a cage is still preferable to being dead." He retorted arrogantly.

"I suppose on that point we shall have to disagree." She responded in obvious frustration, his mirror image in stance as she angrily folded her arms over her chest. They were night and day, darkness and light, parallel lines; their views were never going to intersect.

"Gryffindors put to much stock in freedom." He waved off her argument airily, "What is freedom anyway? Does it even exist?" He philosophised.

"And Slytherins put too much stock in living." She countered, obviously furious that he was bringing school Houses into this, after all what did Houses matter anyway? Gryffindors could just as easily turn as Slytherins, as proved by Peter Pettigrew, among others. "There is a difference between living and surviving you know."

"Actually I wouldn't. My life is about rules Salena I obey them or I die." He countered triumphantly.

"My heart bleeds!" She snapped at him sarcastically, obviously furious with his arguments thus far.

"My entire life was mapped out in front of me almost from the moment of birth." He explained furiously, continuing as though he had not heard her vicious barb, still trying to pace a hole in the patio as he gestured jerkily with his hands.

"Then rewrite the map." She snapped exasperatedly. "It's possible, look at my Father!"

"Forgive me if I don't, his story is hardly inspiring." He fumed, glaring mockingly at his furious cousin.

"He was reckless and made mistakes, you won't." She explained passionately, gazing into his eyes and clearly willing this to be the case. He didn't think she could stand to loose another family member so soon.

" I never had you pegged as a coward Dray!" She spat venomously, obviously desperate to get some kind of reaction out of him, even a negative one. "I guess I was wrong about you!"

"If by coward you mean someone who wants to stay alive then yes you were!" He responded in an equally venomous tone before changing tracts and saying gently, "You can't save everyone you know." moving to lightly grasp her hand in comfort.

"How about just you then?" She laughed humourlessly, squeezing his hand; her eyes were dark and pained, "No?" She tilted her head up towards his in question, before continuing, "You can't always protect me either you know." She was right and they both knew it, things were changing now, probably for the worse, they could never go back to the way things were. In many ways childhood was over for them and they both knew it, war was coming, a war in which they both had roles to play, on opposite sides…

"Force of habit." He shrugged off his over protective tendencies with nonchalance but knew that however much he wanted them to change they never would. He would always feel like it was his job to protect her, he would just no longer be capable of doing it.

"I don't need a bodyguard Dray." She pouted prettily, this was an old argument, one she knew perfectly well that she was never going to win, he wouldn't let her.

"You'll forgive me if I'm not convinced." He responded sardonically.

"I've taken care of myself just fine…" She began what was quite obviously going to be a furious tirade on just how well she could take care of herself, but Draco was not prepared to listen to her.

"Interesting how your version of 'taking care' of yourself involves waltzing into a Death Eater trap with Potter and his merry band of idiots." He sniped, gazing exasperatedly at her once again furious expression, "It's a miracle you weren't all killed!" He screeched in remembered impotent frustration knowing that it so easily could have been the case.

For her part she was quite obviously furious, they hadn't been in a fight this intense for years and her blue eyes seemed to positively zing with energy, with fire; he grudgingly admitted that it was a somewhat intimidating sight.

It had been years since either of them had really let go enough to fight with each other, they weren't supposed to drop their guards for any reason, but this was different! The world they knew was shifting under their feet, the rules were changing and deep down they each knew that this might very well be the last time they really talked, such circumstances readily breed unusually violent reactions in even the most self contained aristocrats, a theory they were obviously proving. They both wanted comfort, for the other to tell them that everything was going to be all right, the only problem was that neither of them believed it and they each knew that the abyss already separating them was only going to get wider.

"I couldn't let him go alone!" She snapped back equally furious, blue eyes dancing with barely leashed power.

"Do you plan to share the same fate as your Father?" He questioned rhetorically, "Because you're going the right way about it!" He ruthlessly hammered his point home, knowing that he was wounding her and not caring that that was the case.

"Of course not! Do you?" She retorted, taking obvious revenge and perverse pleasure in watching him squirm. They both knew that he was much closer to becoming Lucius than she was to becoming Sirius. "Because if you carry on like this you are going to end up in Azkaban, just like Lucius!" She snapped, emphasising her point with sharp hand gestures even as the words themselves ripped through Draco's defences like knives through butter. She quickly seemed to realise that she had gone too far and cut herself off before the next stinging retort left her lips.

"I think your Father would know more about Azkaban than mine!" He snarled.

She reeled back as though struck and he immediately wished that he could take back his last words. Apparently Sirius was still a touchy subject with her, he knew he'd just crossed some unspoken line with that last sentence.

"I'm sorry," he murmured sincerely, "but I have no choice!" He explained, desperately trying to justify his actions, to her or himself he wasn't entirely sure which anymore. He knew he had no choice but he so wished that he did.

"You keep saying that!" She exploded in frustration, "How can I help you if I don't know what's going on?!" She attempted to reason with him.

"You can't! That is the point!" He explained desperately, she had to stop trying to save him!

"Please just talk to me Dray!" She pleaded, "You used to be able to tell me anything!" She stated dejectedly, glaring at him dolefully from under long dark lashes.

He hated that she was angry with him and hurt that he wouldn't talk to her but it had to be done, this would be better in the long run.

"Times change, people change." He shrugged off her words dismissively trying desperately to pretend that they had not effected him when the truth was, all he really wanted to do was tell her everything, in the vain hope that perhaps she could somehow make everything alright again. But she couldn't and he knew that so he had to push her away.

"They don't change that much! " She retorted angrily, "I know you Draco, I've always known you!" She pleaded with him desperately, eyes almost luminous in the near darkness of the garden, "You were the one that taught me to ride a broom, who held me when I broke my arm falling off. Who told me that 'Black's don't cry' and wiped away my tears while we waited for the healers. You were the one who protected me from octopus hand guys at parties, who used to sneak fire whiskey with me from your Father's study and laugh with me at all the crazy old matriarchs. Who'd play hide and seek with me at Grandmother's house." She gazed imploringly at him; daring him to contradict her, not that he would, she was right and he knew it. "I know you Draco. Are you seriously telling me that all of that means nothing?"

He could have sworn those were tears glittering in her eyes.

"I am," he stated without mercy, "this is war, there is no time for sentimentality, for family." He knew he was being relentless, cruel even but he didn't know what else to do to end this conversation quickly.

"Then I guess I really don't know you anymore." She finally conceded somewhat bitterly.

He hated that he had done that to her but at least now she would leave this alone, he hoped.

"You don't." He agreed.

Turning to leave, obviously in pain over his last comment, Salena suddenly stopped and turned to look back, hesitantly she asked him, "What do you think the future holds for us Dray?"

She seemed almost afraid to hear his thoughts on the matter, not that that particularly surprised him. The future scared him just as much as it so obviously scared her. Nothing was certain anymore.

"I try not to think about it." He commented with unusual honesty.

She nodded curtly her agreement, though there was something jerky and artificial about the movement, like a puppet that had just had its strings cut, which he supposed he had in fact just done. All their lives they had stood together on everything, even if it was not obvious that that was what they were doing and now for the first time they would each have to stand alone in a world which was growing more dark and dangerous by the second. It was indeed a daunting prospect.

"I'm scared Dray." She returned with equal honesty, use of his childhood pet name effecting him far more deeply than he would have liked as he unwillingly caught her eyes in a far from comforting stare.

"So am I." He admitted grudgingly.

"So, where do we go from here?" She questioned jauntily, trying to make it sound as if it were a throw away comment of no importance and failing miserably, they both knew better.

"I have no idea." He conceded bitterly, angry that he had no comforting words to offer her and that likewise she would have no soothing words for him either.

"It won't be anywhere good." She suggested with forced calm, they both knew she was right.

He wasn't going to bother correcting her though it was obvious that she wanted him to step in and suddenly tell her that everything was going to turn out all right, even if they both knew that that wasn't the case.

"Probably not." He agreed noncommittally.

"You don't have to sound so happy about it." She snapped, irritated at his seeming apathy about the fact that within the next few years, perhaps even the next few months both their lives were going to go to hell with them powerless to do anything to stop the inevitable tide of disaster.

"I'm not, there's just nothing I can do to change it." He stated serenely.

"There has to be something we can do." She pondered out loud, desperation creeping into her usually calm tone.

"You tell me." He cocked his head to the side, looking at her intently for any sudden bursts of inspiration. He knew there would be none, they both did, she was just kidding herself thinking that there was actually a way out for either of them, there wasn't.

"I would if I had any clue." She snarled in frustration, hands planted firmly on her hips as she glared piercingly at his apparently relaxed form.

"Just let it go Salena, just let it go…" He waved off her concern with patented flippancy.

What was the point of getting stressed out about all of this anyway? It wasn't like anything they did was going to make a difference anyway. They were both just pawns in a much larger game, what they did was not important, it would be up to someone else to win the game and they both knew it.

"Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die…" He quoted internally the words of some famous muggle poet whose name he had long since forgotten. The words seemed to fit their current situation perfectly, though he had no intention of dying if he could possibly avoid it.

She turned to walk away frustrated with his attitude, apparently ready to give up this line of questioning, and whatever had formerly existed between the two of them. He should have known better than to assume it would be this easy, Salena was nothing if not determined as her next words quite obviously proved…

" I won't give up you know because I believe that you can be saved." She threw out over her shoulder as she began to walk away. "I will find out whatever it is that you're hiding Dray and you'd better hope that I figure it out first because I can think of a lot of people who are just waiting for an excuse to expel you. And when I do figure it out there will be hell to pay." She promised solemnly.

He believed her, but when she found out just what he was supposed to do she was never going to forgive him…

"Just don't do anything reckless." She begged looking at him, as if expecting him to promise that he wouldn't as he used to do when they were children, but he did not intend to make a promise that he could not keep so remained stubbornly silent.

"Be safe Dray." She concluded sadly, turning to walk away from him and back to a party they had both wished to avoid.

"You too Sal." He returned quietly, not turning to watch her leave.

Pausing for a moment he admired the familiar view of the grounds before grabbing a pebble and pitching it out into the inky blackness of the night, hearing the satisfying 'plop' as it hit the lake with glee before turning to follow Salena back into the party. "No rest for the wicked I suppose." He thought sardonically.

Nothing had changed; they still had roles to play and facades to uphold.

**Right here it is, another future one shot, it's been half written for months and now it is finally finished, WOW!**

**Poor Draco. Anyway if we follow the HBP story line then we know how this ends, Draco does what is expected of him, with a little help from Snape, and he and Salena will probably never talk to each other again. She, unfortunately, doesn't find out what he is up to in time to stop him, though you can safely assume that like Harry in the book she would have spent a great deal of time trying to figure out what was going on with him.**

**The only thing different about this universe so far is the introduction of a few of my own characters, they aren't vital to the plot of the books but they add depth and give more of a back story to the pure bloods and the Marauders (something I think we all wish that JK would do).**

**Please review and tell me what you think, its always helpful to hear comments so I know if it's good, bad, indifferent, complete and utter crap…**

**Thanks for reading! Now review!**

**XXX**


	2. A Moment in Time: July 1996

**A Moment In Time: July 1996**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except some elements of the plot, the characters belong to JK, and if you didn't know that already…well then there isn't much hope for you. No point suing I'm just a poor impoverished student. Oh and I definitely don't own the quote at the end, that belongs to Steinbeck or 'The Secret Seven' they belong to Enid Blyton.**

**Summary: Dudley talks to Harry about 5th year, muses just how much his cousin has changed and mourns the state of their disintegrating relationship. Summer between OOTP and HBP.**

**Always wanted to see Harry and Dudley talk about things, so here's my take on it.**

It was just another Saturday night for Dudley Dursley, sneaking back into the house at three am after a night of general mischief and vandalism, doing the kind of things his Mother would kill him for, should she ever find out. The last thing he expected to find was anyone up at this time in the morning so it came as somewhat of a shock to see his mysterious and perpetually brooding cousin sitting on the sofa in the living room, in the dark. The guy barely even left his room normally! What the hell was he up to?

"Potter what are you doing lurking in the dark?" Questioned Dudley suspiciously.

"Thinking." He murmured dismissively, before seeming to come to his senses to cop some of his usual arrogant, 'holier than thou' attitude, "Sneaking in at dawn Dud? Tsk, tsk, what would your parents say?" He mocked him sardonically, an amused smirk crossing his irritatingly handsome features, green eyes lit up with a somewhat malicious sparkle at the thought of having something incriminating on his cousin.

"Well two can play at that game!" Fumed Dudley angrily.

"Somehow I think they'd be more interested in what the hell you're doing up!" He snapped back in frustration.

"Touché." Conceded Potter somewhat belligerently, raising an eyebrow sardonically.

"Oh sod off!" sniped Dudley, "So not screaming for your boyfriend this year then Potter?"

Visibly restraining his anger, a feat Dudley would have deemed impossible last summer, Potter replied with forced calm, "No I guess I'm not Diddykins."

Amazing how he could make that last word positively drip with venom.

"So that's how it's gonna be then...fine." Mused Dudley, physically tamping down on his rising disappointment that he and Potter were never going to get on.

"You still scream at night though." He retorted viciously. Potter looked visibly shaken at this revelation…so apparently he hadn't known.

"Shit." Thought Dudley in frustration, "Now I've bloody gone and done it he's never gonna tell me anything."

"I can hear you through the wall. Mum and Dad can't though." He offered in explanation, as a form of peace offering, quick to console his obviously terrified cousin, "It's just 'cos we share a wall..." He trailed off; uncertain what to say next, desperately wishing for his cousin to snap out of his own mind and shout at him, do anything other than stare dazedly at the wall. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

"Sorry." Harry blinked, sinking further back into the dusky pink sofa as though he wanted the cushions to swallow him up and put him out of his misery.

"What the hell is going on?" wondered Dudley; he'd never seen his cousin like this before, not even when that bloke Cedric died, this was…disturbing.

Potter wasn't gonna do anything stupid was he? He wished he could say with all confidence that he wasn't, but he couldn't, everything he'd seen of his cousin this summer seemed to indicate otherwise. Something was eating him alive and it was only getting worse as the days passed. Where the hell were his friends? Why weren't they here? Surely they knew what was going on? Surely they should be doing something? Weren't they supposed to care about his freaky little cousin?

Realising that this conversation wasn't gonna be over any time soon Dudley settled in for the long haul, moving to sit tentatively on the other end of the sofa. He didn't want to scare Potter, who frankly looked likely to bolt at any second. He wanted answers!

"Why?" Asked Dudley.

"Why what?" responded Harry evasively. It was obvious from his nervous hair ruffling that he knew exactly what Dudley was talking about but he clearly wasn't about to make things easy for his suddenly curious cousin.

Gritting his teeth to keep from screaming in frustration Dudley tried again, "Why scream?" He prodded, staring beseechingly over at his raven-haired cousin, maintaining and keeping eye contact in an attempt to stare him down.

"Bad memories." Stated Potter redundantly, swiftly breaking his cousin's penetrating stare in such a way that made it obvious that he didn't want to talk about this with anyone, least of all Dudley.

"Well tough bloody luck!" Raged Dudley internally, desperately trying to keep his facial expression placid and non-threatening so as not to scare his clearly skittish cousin off. "Fuck! This is like pulling teeth! Why the Hell does Potter always have to be so bloody difficult?" He mused furiously.

"Of what?" He persisted in a would be calm tone of voice, though he was sure that some of the strain was bleeding into it.

"Doesn't matter." He proclaimed in a monotone, the same one he had been using since the start of this questioning session. God was it ever annoying, even shouting would be preferable to this!

"He doesn't actually believe that, does he?" Wondered Dudley, with somewhat morbid curiosity. He wasn't about to admit it, but he really was worried by his cousin's ambivalent attitude, and lack of reaction to any of Dudley's prodding.

Insults were normal, they'd been shouting and insulting each other for years, it was almost expected, but this…where the hell had his firecracker of a cousin gone? The one who couldn't stay out of trouble to save his life? Who'd played pranks on teachers with him at school and always hit back even when he new he was gonna get his arse kicked?

"Yeah right…" Countered Dudley in abject disbelief, before trying a different tract; bribery, with a bit of relaxation factor thrown in. He didn't really expect Potter to accept, but it was worth a shot. "Wanna fag?" He offered hesitantly, pulling a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his jeans pocket.

"Sure." Replied Potter tonelessly, reaching out one long fingered hand to snag a cigarette from Dudley's proffered packet.

Lighting up Dudley used the time to formulate a response, "Figured a goody-goody like you wouldn't go in for this stuff." He challenged, raising an eyebrow at his cousin as he passed the lighter into his waiting hand. This was Potter's chance to get back at him for those last few digs, question was, would he?

"You'd be surprised." He took a tentative puff, "Guess there's a lot you don't know about me Dud." He cocked his head to the side, staring challengingly at Dudley with those unnatural green eyes of his, smirking slightly.

Dudley desperately wanted to punch that irritating little expression off his face, but that wasn't going to help so he restrained himself, "And he's back in the game!" He celebrated internally; Potter was finally back to copping attitude. This was much better! He knew all he had to do was wind him up enough to get a reaction.

They just sat then in companionable silence, the first such silence they'd shared in years, at least since Potter got that damn letter. That had changed everything; suddenly Potter had gone from being his weird little cousin with frighteningly vivid green eyes to this…wizard.

Who knew wizards even existed? It was like something out of the fucking twilight zone! It wasn't real, and it shouldn't have happened to him. Shouldn't have happened to their family. After that he…just couldn't relate to Potter anymore, this wasn't his cousin, his sometimes buddy sometimes punch bag, now he was...this stranger, living in his house. He knew he hadn't dealt with that well, but he was just a kid at that time, he hadn't known any better and his parents had led him to believe that snubbing him, torturing him, was the best thing to do. He was young, he was stupid and it was too late now.

But they'd both changed since then, it had been nearly six years…and Harry was...still a stranger, worse than ever, someone he barely even recognized anymore, someone he couldn't see his scrawny little cousin in at all. Sometimes he got flashes of familiarity, of shared stories, proof that he hadn't dreamt their past, but as they grew those moments became more and more fleeting, and further and further between.

He was almost frightening now, had been since this whole roller coaster started actually but at first it had just been his own fears of magic, the un known, manifesting in his interactions with his cousin (god knew the pig's tail and those toffees hadn't helped) but he hadn't ever really been afraid of Harry, now...it was different. He felt like he was actually justified in fearing his cousin.

Harry wasn't so little anymore; he was tall, taller than Dudley himself, and those eyes, haunted didn't even begin to cover it…Was magic worth it? If that's what Harry's world did to a person then he wanted no part in it, though God knew he'd been jealous at first. At eleven, Hagrid not withstanding, magic had seemed so cool, so interesting, unique, everything he had wanted to experience, wanted to be. He knew he shouldn't have wanted it, but he did. But was it a fair trade? Magic for innocence, it had taken away the care free little boy he had always taunted and replaced him with this sullen stranger. It had killed his parents, taken his friend Cedric and who knew what else? It was obviously something bad if he was this depressed, god knew there was something big going down this summer, all those freaky news reports, his parents whispering about some dark wizard...it couldn't be good. Harry had continued to bounce back from all this shit so far, but how long could he possibly keep this up? What was coming next? Would he even survive to see next summer? Dudley couldn't say with any degree of certainty that he would.

"Now you call out for Sirius." Stated Dudley with certainty, flicking some errant ash into a teacup.

The air suddenly seemed to freeze as his cousin froze in impotent shock, hand poised to knock the ash off the end of the cigarette into a saucer from a long since abandoned cup of tea.

"Your Godfather isn't he?" Ventured Dudley with feigned nonchalance, pretending he hadn't noticed his cousin's reaction to that statement. He'd never get anywhere with this conversation if he didn't push at least a bit.

"Was." Harry finally responded, "He's dead." He returned bitterly.

"Sorry." Apologised Dudley, for once in his life actually being sincere. So that was what had his cousin so fucking moody, his godfather was dead.

"So am I." Breathed his cousin, unshed tears glittering briefly in those too haunted eyes, before he brutally blinked them away, swiftly regaining his composure. That sure as hell wasn't normal, what kind of kid could push something that painful away so easily?

"Since when has Potter got so bloody good at masking his emotions!" cursed Dudley internally, this was not helping matters! "This time last year he was a ticking emotional time bomb!" He noted in impotent frustration.

"He was a good guy." Commented Harry, as though he were talking about the weather, "It's my fault…" He dropped in that little bombshell almost thoughtlessly.

"So apparently this is what's been eating him!" Realised Dudley, with sudden understanding; Potter was blaming himself for this guy Sirius' death! "Time for a reality check!" He decided with grim humour.

"Doubt it, 'less you offed him." He offered casually, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Hopefully that would help snap his irritating little cousin out of this everlasting funk.

"Might as well have." Snapped back Potter combatatively; apparently he still believed that all the problems of the world were his fault. Shit was this not good!

"And here I thought that was Voldiwhatsit." Parried Dudley coolly, not letting Potter's aggressive comeback get to him.

"One of his followers actually." Admitted Harry, cocking his head to gaze questioningly at his cousin. It was obvious why, there was no way in hell that Dudley should have known that but he did.

"I listen in doorways - remember?" Taunted Dudley, only semi viciously. Surely Potter remembered that? Time was that was something they did together, eavesdropped on his parents in doorways, they always did have to know every detail of what was going on around them, like 'The Secret Seven' or something, and god knew the last time they'd done it together had been memorable...it was when that god damn letter had first shown up.

"So it wasn't your fault." Reasoned Dudley, continuing to prove his point even as his mind was occupied in just how far their relationship had deteriorated if Potter couldn't even remember the kind of things he was likely to do. He was almost hurt by the realisation of how little his cousin actually thought of him. He wasn't thick! Maybe he wasn't as smart as Harry and never would be but he wasn't stupid.

"Feels like it." He countered petulantly, a hint of childish pout visible even with this incredibly serious subject matter.

No matter how tough his cousin pretended to be, or how thick the skin he showed to the outside world appeared to be he was still really just a kid…exactly like Dudley, he'd just had to deal with a helluva lot more shit than Dudley probably ever would.

"Well then don't get mad, get even." Suggested Dudley calmly, waiting to catch Potter's eyes, seeing his cousin's innate curiosity piqued he continued, "Everything this guy's taken from you…" he shook his head grimacing slightly at the thought of everything his cousin had lost, "... I'd be out for blood." He finished.

"It's not that easy." Potter returned, hopelessly shaking his head and taking another puff from his stubby cigarette.

"It's as easy as you make it." Countered Dudley easily, gazing at Potter until his cousin reluctantly met his eyes. Potter did not seem to agree with his assessment but Dudley wasn't done yet…

Going on a vicious offensive he continued, "What else are you gonna do, roll over and die?" He cocked his head challengingly at his eternally stubborn cousin. "Come on Potter, you always were a tough little git, shake it off!" he internally ranted as he waited for his cousin's reaction, when it wasn't forthcoming he continued to needle him. "Couldn't you have done that when I was trying to beat the snot out of you?" he questioned jokingly, finally cracking an involuntary smile out of his gloomy cousin.

"Sorry if I spoiled your plans." Apologised Potter falsely, the glint in his eyes told the real story… he wasn't sorry at all, in fact he was proud of his defiance and Dudley knew it. He always had been a contrary little bastard.

"No you're not." Responded Dudley automatically.

"No, I'm not." Agreed Potter readily, leaning forward to stub out his cigarette on the teacup.

Dudley smiled; apparently it wasn't as difficult as he'd thought to fall back into familiar old patterns. This felt like one of their old conversations, before magic, before any of this crap had kicked off, when it was just him and Harry, rivals, but sometimes also friends, and always family.

Returning to a more serious tone Dudley lit up another cigarette, proffering the packet and lighter again to Harry and asked in a would be casual tone, "You're not actually gonna let him win are you?"

Dudley had to admit he was curious about that, Potter hadn't been exactly thinking clearly lately. It was obvious he was depressed and it was also painfully obvious that this loony Voldiwatsit was trying to kill him, the million pound question was, how hard was his cousin going to fight to stay alive? With everything he'd already lost Dudley would almost have understood him wanting to give up…but he didn't want his cousin to die!

"Never." Answered Harry, without a split second of hesitation, as he fumbled with the lighter.

Well that made Dudley feel marginally better! Harry obviously meant what he said, and for the first time tonight Dudley was again getting a sense of his familiar old cousin, the stubborn git who didn't know when to quit. It was comforting to have this Harry back, and not the coldly ambivalent Harry of before who seemed not to care about his own impending death. Only his eyes still told the story of his torment, they were as dark and troubled as ever, but now, strangely resilient, tough. Harry was not about to be broken, by Voldemort or anyone else, that well remembered challenging fire once again burnt deep in those emerald depths.

"Now that sounds better." Encouraged Dudley, trying not to sound too pleased with himself. Attempting to retain some of his previous aloofness, he suddenly quipped, "You never did know when to quit." He calmly took another puff of his rapidly disappearing cigarette, using it to hide his smile as his cousin indignantly spluttered beside him, caught somewhere between laughter and outrage and clearly unsure which direction to take. Dudley smirked; it wasn't often that he got to wrong foot the great Harry Potter!

Finally getting a hold of himself, and trying to retain some semblance of dignity he responded coolly, "I never did." It would have sounded much more impressive and rebellious if he hadn't been fighting back a chuckle at the time.

"Good to know some things never change." Commented Dudley sardonically, before adding contemptuously, "You always were a tough little fucker." He cocked his head in mock challenge at his clearly amused cousin.

"Cheers." Laughed Harry in obvious amusement, inclining his head in agreement, happy for possibly the first time that night.

"You're welcome." Replied Dudley solemnly, biting back a wry smile before suddenly again changing the tone and asking a question, which while far from being tactful, was one he desperately needed an answer for, if only for his own peace of mind. He tried to make it sound as casual as possible, but he knew he wouldn't quite succeed, "So... not thinking 'bout topping yourself anymore?" He queried cautiously.

"What makes you think I was thinking about doing that?" Snapped back Potter, somewhat defensively, his previous lethargically happy mood gone in the blink of an eye.

"Why else would you be sittin' in the dark down here?" Parried Dudley logically, it was a perfectly valid question, and he wasn't about to back off just because Potter didn't feel like answering it! "You usually hide out in your room." He accused, stubbing out his cigarette, and leaning forward to hear his cousin's response.

"True," acknowledged Potter, somewhat more calmly, before once again retaking the offensive, "still doesn't mean that I was contemplating suicide though." He pointed out rationally, the kind of rationalisation that was too well thought out to be anything other than a cover up for something.

That realisation did not exactly fill Dudley with confidence about his cousin's previous state of mind, he only hoped he'd managed to get through to him... Everything that happened in the world was not his fault, and just because some nut wanted him dead that didn't make what he did his fault either. Sometimes Potter could be so bloody predictable that it just wasn't funny, he'd always been like this! Trying to take the problems of the world onto his shoulders and trying to save everyone. He just didn't understand that not everything was his responsibility, and sometimes you can't save everyone.

He decided a more specific frontal assault was in order if he was going to get Potter to admit to anything, or help him deal with this.

"That switchblade you nicked off me last week does though." He intoned seriously, glancing up to watch the expression in Potter's eyes and almost daring him to look away. Of course the courageous little idiot didn't, and Dudley could see the guilt and pain written in those dark green depths.

"So you noticed that." Muttered Potter blandly, finally blinking away from Dudley's too knowing gaze. He didn't appear to know what to say, or how to deal with his cousin's frank appraisal, it probably hadn't occurred to him that Dudley would care about what happened to him, until now...He obviously wanted to know what Dudley intended to do with this information.

Obliging his cousin's obvious interest Dudley acquiesced with the information, "I'd have ratted you out but Mum'd kill me if she knew…" He stated unobtrusively, "I'm not supposed to have it." He clarified. Didn't want his cousin thinking he was doing him any favours…especially about this…

"I know." Agreed Potter placidly.

"And that's probably why he took it in the first place!" Mused Dudley, half exasperated half admiring of his sneaky cousin; it was things like this that made him miss him in the first place! Where had that naturally devious mind been when he'd nearly been suspended for being caught sneaking out last term? Harry would have had a plan, a good one, better than the crap they'd come up with anyway. It was why they'd made such a good team, way back when…

Concerned Dudley pressed on in his interrogation, "What I want to know is, why?" He questioned in genuine confusion, "Is your life really that bad?" He pondered it out loud, looking beseechingly to his silent cousin for some kind of an explanation.

"Sometimes." Shrugged Harry unconcernedly. He didn't seem to care, or think that there was anything wrong with that.

"Well why would he?" Mused Dudley furiously, "It's the only life he's ever known!" God, sometimes it looked like his cousin's life really sucked; he didn't envy him that!

"I'm sorry." Apologised Dudley sincerely. He was sorry, sorry for his part in it, sorry for Harry's pain, sorry for his whole insane world for all the good that it would do.

"No you're not." Stated Harry simply. His words cutting as effectively through Dudley as a pack of razor blades applied directly to the skin.

"Now that hurts!" Cringed Dudley, sure he hadn't done much in the past few years to help, but what did Potter call this? He was trying to make amends, really!

"Actually I am." Reinforced Dudley, quietly restating his point.

"Grown a conscience recently?" Mocked Harry nastily, no doubt remembering all the nasty little things Dudley had done to him in the last few years, and there were a lot. No wonder he didn't believe him, Dudley was going to have to explain things somehow…in a way Potter would believe…

"We're still family." Dudley finally explained, "Sucks to see you all beaten down and know I didn't do it…" he smirked threateningly over at his cousin, causing an unwanted smile to flicker across Harry's too pale features, "that's my job." He grinned evilly.

"Sorry to deprive you the pleasure." Snarked Harry good naturedly.

Somehow they had apparently managed to get back to good natured banter, though god only knew how.

Going with the flow Dudley replied in kind with the same kind of good natured mocking, "No you're not." He retorted, rolling his eyes at the familiar immature one upmanship contest.

"No, I'm not." Agreed Harry happily, he energetically stubbed out his cigarette butt on the teacup, and suddenly looked up, eyes laced with pain, fear…and something else, regret, guilt…responsibility… Responsibility for what though, that was the question, "People are dying." He whispered softly, the guilt and pain almost palpable.

Well Dudley wasn't having that, how could Potter hold himself responsible for all of this crap? How could his so called friends let him hold himself responsible? Once again brining his cousin back to reality Dudley responded flippantly, "Oh… you kill 'em?" He questioned irreverently, forcing his cousin to admit what was already painfully obvious to Dudley; this wasn't his fault.

"No." Harry finally conceded, the word sounded forced, fake, as though on one level he didn't really believe it, but on another had to acknowledge its truthfulness.

"Not perfect, but it's a start." Thought Dudley pensively, trying to gage his cousin's reaction to his words.

Following up his reality check he asked his cousin a question he was positively dying to know the answer to, "Then how is that your fault?" He questioned, trying not to sound too eager; he really wanted to know the answer to that one.

"Just is." Shrugged Harry noncommittally, stating this grim statement as though it were a fait accompli, and beyond his control, something he had resigned himself to a long time ago. Now there was a horrifying thought!

"You really do have a martyr complex you know." Stated Dudley disgustedly. He didn't know who he was more angry with, that damn freaky school, or Harry's supposed friends who had sent him on his merry way, suicidal thoughts dancing in his head over things he couldn't change, and people he could never have been expected to save. Who exactly was supposed to be looking out for his cousin in all this? Because whoever they were, they certainly weren't doing their jobs properly!

"Wow big words." Mocked Harry, pretending to be impressed, "Know what that means?" He challenged arrogantly, cocking an eyebrow at his far from intellectual cousin.

"Do you?" Snapped back Dudley, with a meaningful look at his infuriatingly self-righteous relative, did Potter always have to rub in how bloody brainy he was? As if Dudley wasn't aware that he wasn't exactly genius material.

Potter shrugged, smirking self confidently, he knew what it meant, but then that had never been in question, he nearly always knew what things meant, understood things.

"Despite what you think I'm not completely stupid." Responded Dudley, caught somewhere both unfamiliar and unwelcome between hurt and anger. Just how thick did Harry think he was?

"No?" questioned Potter, rhetorically, in obvious and insultingly mocking disbelief.

"Now that's it, next bloody pithy comment and I'm gonna take his f---ing head off!" Threatened Dudley, silently fuming, before biting back his rage and responding almost calmly, "No. I'm not as smart as you," he conceded, grudgingly, "never will be," he admitted, "but I'm not completely thick."

Potter looked at him as though he had just grown another head, then stated amazedly, "When did you grow up?" He blinked at Dudley, as though casting scales from his eyes and seeing for the first time some particularly fascinating alien species. He seemed to be truly seeing his cousin for the first time in years, instead of just reacting to taunts and attempting invisibility.

"Maybe the same time you did." Countered Dudley thoughtfully, they'd both grown up a lot recently, it was hard to believe that only a year ago they'd faced that dementor together after getting in that god awful fight. It seemed like a hundred years had passed since then, for both of them…

"Everything's slipping out of control." Mumbled Harry absently; seemingly unsure what to make of Dudley's newfound maturity which seemed to threaten the very fabric of his existence and call into question everything that he had once believed. He didn't appear to really be seeing anything around him; he was just talking out loud, trying to work through his obviously tumultuous thoughts.

"So?" prodded Dudley, attempting to wake his cousin from his self induced stupor, waiting until Harry reluctantly met his gaze with somewhat dazed tired eyes he continued, "You're just a kid, it's not your fault, not your problem." He tried to emphasise these supposedly obvious things to Potter, apparently without much success.

"It is." Refuted Potter tonelessly.

"Then stop whining and crying and do something useful." Rejoined Dudley in obvious indignation at his cousin's irritatingly defeatist and self-flagellating attitude. When was he gonna get it through his head that this really wasn't his fault?

"Maybe never." Dudley grudgingly conceded to himself, though he wasn't about to give up just yet. He used to be good at getting Potter to snap out of his funks; maybe he still had some skill left…

"You know, for once you're actually right." Replied Potter, with more enthusiasm than Dudley would have thought possible a few minutes ago, eyes glittering with a cold burning fire which sent chills up and down Dudley's spine. What the hell had he managed to stir in his cousin now? It certainly didn't look good and Dudley had too wonder how bad things would have to be to produce such a hateful, frighteningly look in his normally amicable cousin's eyes. He had to know, steeling himself he prepared to ask…"Harry…" He began haltingly, unsure quite what to say, what he needed to ask to find out what he so desperately wanted to know.

"Hmmm…" responded Harry absently, picking at the tacky looking rose embroidery on the sofa cushion he had long since been grasping in an unconscious strangle hold. Who he imagined he was strangling Dudley was curious to know, Voldiwatsit, or someone else…

"Whatever's going on…" He paused uncertainly, "all the weird crap this summer…" He explained tentatively, "It's really bad huh?" he stated redundantly, unsure if he really wanted confirmation or not.

"Really, really bad." Confirmed Harry mildly, lifting his eyes to catch Dudley's light blue ones. There was nothing but honesty in those too frank eyes and it scared Dudley to death. What the hell was happening?

"Thought so…" breathed Dudley unhappily, briefly closing his eyes in fear and confusion, two emotions he was not fond of in himself, though he relished in others. He let the silence wash over him for a few long moments, and when it became apparent that Potter was not going to break it to elaborate he once again broached a subject which had been the cause of much concern on his part, "So are you gonna give me the switchblade back now?" He asked casually.

"Yeah…" responded Potter ponderously, as if just surfacing from a dream, "I don't think I need it anymore…" he admitted with dawning wonder, as if it had only just occurred to him that this was the case. Digging around in his pocket he retrieved the blade and finally returned it to his owner.

Dudley pocketed the knife, glad to finally have it back, and out of his cousin's clearly less than stable hands. He didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if the git topped himself with his knife….it would be like the ultimate indignity.

"Dudley…" Potter suddenly began again, unexpectedly.

Looking up startled at being called away from his musings by his usually less than sociable cousin Dudley wasn't sure what Potter was about to say. "Yeah…" he mumbled noncommittally, cocking his head as if questioning what Potter could possibly have to say to him.

"Thanks…" Stated Potter, his tone surprisingly devoid of any mocking or insolence. He really meant it.

"What are cousins for?" Retorted Dudley easily, unwilling to break their tentative truce by getting too deep or mushy.

"Night Dud." Potter suddenly sprung up to leave, with more energy than might reasonably be expected at four am. Dudley was suitably impressed, perhaps Potter wasn't as much of a goody-goody as he had previously thought, the guy certainly had stamina!

"Night cous…." Mumbled Dudley as he watched his cousin silently bound up the stairs, "Good luck, you're gonna need it." He muttered almost silently under his breath, unsure whether he wanted Harry to hear his words or not.

Quietly he moved to pick up the soiled tea cup (He'd have to remember to make Potter pay for that tomorrow!) and then finally made his way to bed, musing on everything he'd just heard.

Nothing had changed, they both had lives to live and images to uphold, but for a moment there they had been something other than enemies, they had been family. Something they always should have been and rarely were.

_"_**_As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone."_ _'_**_Of Mice and Men', Chapter 5, page 93, by John Steinbeck_

**Written because Harry got over Sirius somehow, and God knows we didn't see it happen.**

**Could possibly fit in with 'Draco's Choice', as one relationship between cousins disintegrates, another is reborn, all in the same summer! Now that's what you call ironic…**

**Oh and if Dudley seems a little OOC to you think of it this way, what the hell do we actually know about Dudley Dursley anyway? For all we know this kind of conversation could be perfectly plausible, so he's a bullying toerag, but is that all he is? Just a thought! **

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review!**

**XXX**

**Edited 12/3/07**


End file.
